Grand Theft Auto: Bullworth City
by FearandLoathingXIX
Summary: AU re-hash of Bully in the style of a GTA game. Bullworth City is a hellhole plagued by gangs, crime and petty warfare. Jimmy Hopkins is a lowly thug with a hidden past, looking to pull himself up a few places. Gary Smith is, well… Gary Smith.
1. Defend Bucky

This is my effort to the Gary/Jimmy shippers who wish I'd write another fic about them. I can't promise anything,

* * *

**Defend Bucky**

Jimmy Hopkins had a problem with people talking about him behind his back. It always gave him an inclination to smash the door open and kick someone's teeth in. Wouldn't have been the first time he'd done it, _or _gotten busted for it either. The only thing that restrained him was that one of the people talking about him was meant to give him a sizable amount of cash before the evening was out.

"I _know _he's crude, but he's unreliable too," the voices behind the door conversed in obliviously loud tones. Earnest Young was the Mafioso of the seediest part of Bullworth City's underbelly. Originally a porn king, now just a gangster with a special interest in brothels. Why someone hadn't ripped his little head off his body was beyond a thug like James Hopkins, but he supposed it was because he was smart. Very smart. Smart enough not to trust a strongman like Jimmy too much.

"He's cool," a rasping voice of Jimmy's hookup assured him. "He'll handle it." Jimmy could use the cash this job would merit, and Edgar was doing him a favour putting him through like this. Delivering 'pizza' and running errands only kept you going for so long, and he didn't fancy living in Blue Skies below the breadline for the rest of his life.

"Not alone, he won't. I'm bringing in my... security," Earnest remarked, and it was around then that Jimmy realised there was someone else in the lobby with him. A man who'd walked in so quietly he could have been a ghost, leaning back against the wall dressed entirely in black. Now flicking ash from the end of a cigarette onto the floor.

"So, what are you meant to be?" he sneered at Jimmy, who stood up straight and flexed his fists. "Someone's pet Gorilla?"

"You got a problem?" Jimmy barked. This guy had some height on him, but Jimmy had thirty pounds surplus in sheer mass. He'd snap this guy's neck over his knee and spit down his throat.

"Wow, make that _badly-_trained Gorilla," he demurred, flicking ash again. "Didn't your zookeeper teach you not to yell at strangers?"

"I don't know who you think you are, but-" Jimmy began, set on smashing the guy's smug head off his fucking shoulders when the door behind him opened and Edgar loomed in the doorway.

"Jimmy, c'mon in," he invited, and looked over to the other guy.

"Oh, there's more of you," the stranger scorned. "Is Earnest starting a freakshow?"

"Get in here!" Earnest's voice ricocheted from indoors, and it seemed to be addressing the stranger, who rolled his eyes and stubbed out his cigarette on the wall. He didn't seem to have a lot of respect for the place.

Earnest Young had a look about him that seemed perpetually oily, his hair was lank and his glasses huge. He looked moist to the touch, like a sardine. His desk was huge, apparently to compensate for his wiry figure. But he'd stick a knife in you all the same. Well, he'd pay someone else to do it for him.

"Jimmy Hopkins," he announced like it was a monumental occasion. "I've heard about you."

"And I've heard about _you_," Jimmy redressed. "Don't make either of us special. What's the job?"

"You must be desperate, Earnest, if this is the sort of thug you're hiring these days," the stranger in black remarked obnoxiously.

"Well you'll have to get used to the new man because you're supervising him," Earnest cut in, and the look of complete shock on the guy's face was almost enough to overwhelm Jimmy's own abhorrence.

"You've got to be kidding!" he snarled. "I have more important things to be doing than babysitting some fucking dumbass high off chemical fumes-"

"How about you shut up before I shut it for you?" Jimmy cut in, and the stranger looked like he wanted to throw up on him.

"Jimmy Hopkins, this is Gary," Earnest said in a patronising tone. "He's a... well, he works for me."

"I work for myself," the guy corrected. "You're just the contractor."

"Call it what you will," Earnest scoffed. "The two of you are going to do a little... _job_ for me."

"If it's so little, I can do it myself," Jimmy pointed out.

"See, Earnest?" Gary said proudly. "He's all trained like a good doggie, he'll manage to fetch the stick on his own."

"All right!" Jimmy snapped, turning and jumping for the guy, who stepped back and grinned. "I've had it with you!"

"Down, boys!" Earnest pealed, and Gary just rolled his eyes. Jimmy had Edgar making furious 'cut it out' motions at him to keep him from starting a punchup then and there. "Gary, you are going to assist Jimmy. You might not like it, but you're going to do it. Because if you don't, certain people might wake up on the wrong side of a concrete pair of slippers!" Even though the threat seemed entirely serious, Gary just laughed. As if he really didn't give a fuck.

"Of course, Earnest," he scorned. "Then who'd do your taxes for you?"

"Just _do it!" _For a weedy little man with glasses an inch thick, Earnest squealed _exactly _like he was expected to. Almost to a tee. Gary gave a sigh and cast Jimmy a dirty look.

"Whatever, come on then," he scoffed, pulling out another cigarette and walking out the door. Jimmy went after him not entirely sure if he was going to beat the shit out of the guy or go along with the job. They went to a car and Gary slid into the driver seat without question. "How stupid are you?!" he screeched out the window when Jimmy didn't automatically get in the other side. "Get in!"

When Jimmy slammed the car door shut from the inside he assumed it was because he was going to headbutt this Gary character and steal the car for good measure. If the vehicle hadn't shot from 0 to eighty in the space of a few seconds he might have actually tried it. Maybe this guy had a lead foot, as Gary didn't get his sole off the car floor for a solid minute. When Jimmy could just about move again, he picked up a hand and balled it into a fist.

"Now what was it you said about me being stupid?" he announced forebodingly, and then his head hit the side window as they hared around a corner almost coming onto two wheels.

"I said you must be stupid, and you probably are," Gary replied. "What are you going to do about it, tough guy?"

"Maybe I'll shove you out of this car and tell Earnest that the job went bad," he suggested crudely.

"Try it, chump," he retaliated. "I know you must think you shit solid gold, but I've been sent along to babysit your ass because I'm _better _than you, and if you want a contest of who ends up bleeding out first, be my goddam-fucking guest."

Then a car ahead was just a little too slow for Gary's preference so with a death-inviting swerve he lurched the car into the oncoming traffic, ploughed down the middle of the lanes and then shunted back in front of the other car so fast its brakes squealed behind them. They could've checked to see just how gold Jimmy's crap was because he almost shit himself in the process, instead mumbling and cursing as they got back into traffic going in the right direction.

"What's your fucking problem?" he muttered, which his psychotic driver picked up on with bat-like hearing.

"_My _problem? Well, ADD primarily, but also this city, the fuckers I have to work with, and a little bit of substance abuse because I've been on and off e for the last thirty-eight hours but really, it's not about me," he chattered manically. "We've got a job to do."

"Yeah we do," Jimmy answered. "What _is _that, exactly?"

"Some fucknuts interrupted a shipment coming into the city," he answered coarsely. "Took the weedy little fucker who drives the van hostage too. I'm hoping he's dead before we get there, but you never know." Jimmy could've asked a shipment of _what_, but he knew how far asking questions got you round here.

"All right," he settled, kicking back in his seat. Hell, maybe this guy would get caught up in the fray. Wouldn't that be nice?

"There's a gun in the glovebox," Gary announced, haring around another corner and sending Jimmy's lunch all to one side of his stomach.

"No thanks," he replied. "I don't shoot people."

"What?!" he scoffed. "Don't tell me you're a pacifist."

"I don't like killing people," he said calmly. "Hurting them, though."

"Oh, you like to use your _hands_," Gary remarked slyly. "Well, Earnest has uses even for people like you."

"I don't want to be useful to him, I just wanna get paid," he retorted. This job was becoming less savoury by the minute. They approached a set of garages and came to a stop almost quietly. Without warning Gary leaned across to grab for the glovebox, reaching between his legs as he flipped it open and pulled out the gun. The safety wasn't on, and Jimmy didn't like how this clearly unstable guy was waving a loaded gun way too close to his crotch.

"I'm waiting here," he announced. "But if you fuck it up, I'll have to get my hands dirty. So don't fuck it up."

"Don't worry," he replied acridly. "Go in, get the shipment, get the guy-"

"If he's alive. Little whelp called Bucky. You'll know him, everyone else will look like they don't shit their pants in a strong breeze," Gary explained. "And don't be lenient with these people, they won't be lenient with you. In fact they'll probably shoot you in the head, and then _I'll _have to pick up the iddy biddy pieces and cart them back to Earnest."

"Well keep your lacy panties on straight, we ain't gonna have a problem," Jimmy seethed, and with a sudden click Gary slid back in his seat and propped his feet up on the steering wheel, fingering the barrel of the gun like he couldn't keep still or he'd rust.

"Fine, then on your merry way," he goaded, and Jimmy got out of the car, slamming the door unnecessarily hard. He had a habit of getting overly physical when he was forced into closed spaces with utter dickheads.

The garages were a pile of shit, and he could hardly believe anyone even lived in them, until the first person came running.

"Who sent you?!" a shout came out of the darkness, but Jimmy kept walking.

"What?" he yelled blindly. "My car broke down!"

"WHO SENT YOU?!" it raised to a bellow, but by then Jimmy knew exactly where he was. A running headbutt and the thug was on the floor, a swift punch and it was lights out for spotty.

"What was that?!" a more distant shout, and Jimmy put his back to a wall and waited for the reinforcements to run past. He tripped one, grabbed another, and even if they'd had guns they never got a chance to use them before they were both down. He took a couple of hits in the process, but he'd had worse fights when he went out for a quiet drink.

Down and down chumps went, blundering around like moles and letting Jimmy slam them into the wall or floor until they were all taking black-and-blue naps, until he was faced with the big dog.

"Is it Earnest you're working for?!" a guy called down from the top of a makeshift barricade, probably fencing off their safehouse. A shot rang out and hit the floor several metres away from Jimmy. No one in this town could shoot for shit, and it was dark enough they could barely see anyway.

"You took something that ain't yours, and I'm gonna have to have it back," he answered, sidestepping a few paces so the next gunshot went even further amiss. "Don't play stupid," he said, and another shot, then another. Not even close. He probably only had half a clip left, and he'd barely managed to hit the floor. "Bucky's coming with me too."

"Never!" A pointless shout, and when another gunshot fired off Jimmy just paced up to the wall and started to rip trashcans and hunks of sheet metal out of it like he was pulling down a card house. It crumpled underneath the leader, who started screaming and scrabbling around like a drowning rat. By the time Jimmy got his hands on his neck he was very much done, his gun having been the first thing to go down in the fray.

"He's in the garage!" the guy yelled as Jimmy's hands made a pretty choker around his throat. "Bucky and the stuff!"

"Lotta garages around here," Jimmy said ominously. "Be more specific." The guy coughed as his throat slowly closed in on itself.

"That one right there!" he rasped, pointing to the last storeroom on the end. "Whatever, we don't want your stupid junk anyway. They told us this was gonna be a big drugs deal, and all that kid's got is engine parts!" Something caught Jimmy's attention.

"Who told you?" he asked, but then there was another yell and a shot.

"Hey! Don't shoot me!" the guy under Jimmy's hands screamed, so Jimmy hauled him up and held him out in front, an arm twisted up his back as he walked over to the garage. They might shoot one of their own here, but he'd probably stop the bullets at least. The door wasn't even locked, and a ratty looking guy was sitting in the corner on a big dirty suitcase looking almost like he'd been crying.

"I surrender!" he yelped as soon as Jimmy stepped into the yellowing light.

"Settle down, I'm here to help," Jimmy replied.

"Y-you are?! Oh happy days," the nerd cheered, jumping up and starting to wheel the dusty suitcase towards Jimmy. "Earnest _does _care after all!" Jimmy figured Earnest probably cared more about what was in the suitcase than the guy pulling it, but let him have his moment.

A few more goons tried to jump them on the way out, but Bucky hit the tarmac and Jimmy had them disposed of before they could do very much damage. They were almost by the gate, where Gary would hopefully still be parked, when an outright roar picked through the air.

"What the fuck was tha-" Jimmy got as far as before a guy who was seven feet if he was an inch charged out of thin air and almost took the top of Jimmy's body off the bottom. A blow that sent him flying several feet, but before his head was stomped on like a rotten egg he'd rolled out of it and backed away, putting a hell of a lot of space between him and the monster before he could end this mission in horrible failure.

"RWARRRR! RUSSELL MAD!" the half-man half-king-kong hybrid bellowed as he hit a wall, turned face and ran again. This time Jimmy got away in time but Bucky was in a puddle on the floor begging his mother for forgiveness.

"Get moving!" Jimmy barked, grabbing the suitcase and trying to get air back into his lungs. He dragged the case in one hand and Bucky by the back of the neck in the other, sprinting through a rusty set of corrugated iron gates, which he only just got shut when the manbear on the other side started pounding into them.

The car, thankfully, was still there. Gary was smoking a cigarette out of the window, but Jimmy paid him no mind and opened the boot of the car, deciding to put the suitcase in there instead of Bucky, then put Bucky in the backseat instead, and hopped through an open window to land in the passenger side while the gates were slowly smashed open from the inside.

"Go!" he ordered, and with a reluctant haste Gary started the car and reversed, skidded and then turned forwards, racing off into the night with his smoke still hanging out the corner of his mouth.

"Had some trouble, did you?" Gary remarked as they were out of distance, while Jimmy panted and wiped sweat off his neck.

"Only at the end," he grumbled. "It was a fucking cake walk until he showed up."

"He? Wait, could you mean you met _Russell_?" Gary prompted.

"Might've been. That was what he yelled before he almost snapped me in two," Jimmy answered bitterly. "Maybe I ought to have had a gun in the end."

"Oh no," Gary dismissed. "Shooting him will just make him mad."

"You're kidding," Jimmy grunted. No one had warned him about this beforehand, and he felt duly cheated. Set up to get pasted to the asphalt by a monster so Gary could pick up the pieces by the door.

"Well, well, they were smart enough to have Russell on duty," Gary was reflecting, more to himself than anyone else. "Turns out there is a braincell to share between them."

"Coulda fooled me," Jimmy commented. "Ten guys and not one of them put up a good fight. I've had a worse time trying to pick up my dry cleaning." That part was true. Funny things happened when you let the triads do all your laundry for you and then didn't want to tip.

"Easy, was it?" Gary said smoothly, and had his eyes more attached to Jimmy than the road, which he didn't like at all – not least because he was driving. "Perhaps you might be more useful than I thought." Jimmy didn't feel like dignifying that answer with a response, so kept quiet and hung an arm out the window, hoping he didn't lose it to a street sign on the way back.

They pulled up outside Earnest's club where Gary parked the car next to a Jag and threw the keys into the back seat.

"Out you get, gremlin!" he hollered back at Bucky, who'd either taken a nap or passed out from sheer fright. "Whoever's car this is doesn't want to find _you _in it when he drunk-drives it home."

"This ain't your car?" Jimmy said without checking himself, and got a disgusted look for his trouble.

"As if," Gary laughed, getting out and walking to the boot. No wonder he drove like he didn't give a fuck. Jimmy heard the sound of zipping, no doubt as Gary checked the goods, and then a thunk as he landed the suitcase on the floor again. Jimmy followed him to a side door, eager for his money, only to find a chubby ginger guy blocking the way.

"Earnest wants to know if you got the... supplies," the squealy man said in far too commanding a voice.

"Pee-stain, good to see you," Gary commented scathingly. "I see Earnest isn't letting you back indoors yet. Still not forgiven you for his Persian rug? _Or _what you did to that nice girl from the whorehouse?"

"He wants to know if you've _got it," _the guy repeated stiffly, although he didn't look particularly comfortable, and Jimmy noticed his fly was open.

"Of course I have," Gary spat. "Don't soil yourself in excitement, Algernon. It's here."

"The guy seemed to think you were transporting a case fulla junk," Jimmy commented, and got nasty looks from both Gary and the other one.

"That's what those dumasses would think," Gary demurred. "What's in here is no concern of yours."

"You got that right," Jimmy agreed. "My money is, though."

"Of course," the fatty called Algernon said reluctantly, and pulled a crumpled wad of bills out of his pocket. Jimmy flicked through them and knew it was short.

"Nice try," he said brashly. "Where's the rest?"

"That's all I was given," Algernon insisted. "All you did was pick up a case, and you had Earnest's best man for help! You don't deserve more than that."

"Help?" Jimmy shot. "He almost got me killed on the ride over and sat in the fucking car the whole time. He didn't help me for shit!"

"Earnest Young is not a man to be trifled with," the bouncer said prattishly. "You got paid, and be glad for that. Now get out of here!"

"Why you two-timing backstabbing little-" Jimmy started, only to find a hand on his arm.

"I'll deal with this," Gary cut in suddenly, even to the surprise of Algernon, by the looks of it. "Come with me, Jimmy. Algie, just take the goods to Earnest and let him know I've got things covered. And don't piss on too many hookers." While Algie went bright red and looked like his eyes were going to burst out from behind his glasses, Jimmy somehow allowed Gary to walk him away and get an extra hundred bucks out of his wallet.

"You're right, I didn't help much," he conceded, and Jimmy felt suspicious straight away. Something about this wasn't entirely right.

"Earnest didn't tell you to give me the rest," Jimmy stated, and Gary raised his eyebrows like he was mildly surprised by something.

"What Earnest thinks he knows and what Earnest knows are two very different things," he remarked cryptically. "Really, he's a big phony. A perv who got lucky in this viper pit."

"So what?" Jimmy said. "He pays."

"So does everyone," Gary replied. "So do I." Jimmy stared him out for a moment.

"What are you offering me?" he asked. Somehow he didn't think this guy was trying to buy him out for a date.

"The kings in this town are rotten," he said with venom, like he really hated each and every son of a bitch to call himself a leader. "It's about time they go."

"And you think you're cut out for the job?" Jimmy scoffed. "There's a lotta wet graves out in the bay for people who thought they could do it better."

"They weren't me," Gary said craftily, "and _they _didn't have you."

"Me?" Jimmy queried.

"A guy who gets things done," Gary said, and he was all sweetness now. Jimmy had to remind himself he was thinking of beating this guy to death earlier today.

"I don't know," he excused. "I just wanna get by. I'm not looking to-"

"You leave all that to me," Gary interrupted. "Don't think about it now. All you need to do is wait for me to come up with something brilliant. Trust me, you won't say no. Where do you live?" he shot like he was unloading a full clip of thoughts on one target.

"What's it to you?" he bit.

"How else am I meant to fucking contact you?" Gary snapped. "Unless you want to take your chances on the phones, but I'm telling you now Earnest has most of them bugged. Gets off hearing other people dirty-talk their wives and girlfriends from motels. Sick fuck. Anyway," he chattered, and Jimmy could see the part about the ADD and drugs now. "Where?"

"Uh... blue skies," he answered awkwardly. "Block H... appartment 21F."

"Good," Gary said without making any kind of effort to note it down, like he'd really remember. "Go home and enjoy your money. You'll hear from me when the time is right." He pulled another set of keys out of his pocket and clicked them, looking around the car park for a set of flashing lights. Like he didn't know where the car was parked because he hadn't been the one to park it. Or buy it.

It was the Jaguar parked next to the car they'd been in for the job that flashed as the locks opened.

"Verrry nice," Gary commented smugly, wandering past Jimmy like he'd suddenly stopped existing, and climbing into the driver's seat. Jimmy felt bad for the sucker who'd had his keys lifted as the car backed out of the space and almost rear-ended a dumpster in reverse.

"Oh, and by the way," Gary added as he swung around and pulled up next to Jimmy, hanging out the window like he wasn't casually jacking a car. "My last name's Smith. Just so you don't get confused." With _what_, Jimmy had to think, but the guy was half-tweaked and driving off in someone's stolen car, so he wasn't about to question what he thought was fucking logical at this time.

"Like I'm that stupid," he muttered.

"Coulda fooled me!" Gary declared ecstatically, revving the car again and charging out into the street, ramming straight through a red light and narrowly missing a truck full of garden gnomes.

"Well..." Jimmy murmured to himself as the lights disappeared around a corner to a tune of blaring horns. "Gary Smith."


	2. Welcome To Bullworth

**Welcome to Bullworth**

When Jimmy Hopkins had revealed his address to an unstable kleptomaniac with a taste for dangerous driving, he might have been under the influence of the fact that the guy had just given him a hundred bucks. Hey, he'd thought, if he's giving me money, how bad can he be?

Pretty bad, it turned out, but that would be jumping too far ahead in the game. Jimmy first knew something was up while he was eating leftover pizza out of the box, like he would on any normal evening, when he heard his front door open. His front door with like four fucking locks on it that were on at all times.

So he did what any normal person with a minor record of misdemeanour would do, and grabbed a baseball bat and hid behind a lamp. He kept very quiet and listened for the footsteps. Eventually a short guy with curly brown hair shuffled timidly through the doorway, not looking like the typical sort of burglar, but Jimmy jumped screaming through the air at him anyway.

"Ahhh!" the guy yelped as Jimmy lurched out. "Don't hurt me! Don't hurt me!"

"Who are you?! How'd you get in?" he bellowed, but also noticed that the guy wasn't carrying any weapons. In fact he was totally empty-handed.

"Gary sent me, Gary sent me!" he chattered fearfully.

"Gary Smith?" Jimmy specificed.

"Yeah!" the stranger answered. _Now_ Jimmy realised why Gary had told him his full name.

"Well, how the fuck did you get into my place?" he addressed next.

"I got some keys from him. From Gary, I mean," the guy explained meekly. "He said you'd be expecting me."

"Like fuck I was. Why the hell has he got keys? I didn't give them to him."

"I don't know, he has ways of getting this stuff," the guy explained. "Don't get mad, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"You coulda just knocked," he replied.

"Gary said... well whatever," the guy mumbled. "He probably knew you'd freak out, and that's why he told me to let myself in."

"You mean he set you up?" Jimmy suggested bluntly. Some kind of friends he kept.

"Sure. He likes to," the guy answered despondently. "I'm Pete, by the way. Pete Kowalski."

"Hey," he replied suspiciously. "So what are you doing here if you know Gary's setting you up?"

"I didn't," he insisted. "Not this time, at least. He's not always that bad," the unfortunate guy excused. Making excuses for Gary Smith of all people.

"What are you his parole officer or something?" Jimmy asked.

"Not quite," Pete replied. "I'm his sponsor. Well, I was. When he was still in rehab."

"Oh great, a junkie," Jimmy sighed. "Just what I need."

"He's not a... well, he's kinda bad, but he mostly makes sense," Pete pointed out, like he was really making a case for this guy.

"So what does he want?" Jimmy pressed. "Other than to make asses out of both of us?"

"He said he's got something for you to do," Pete informed him. He didn't really look like the sort of guy to run errands for a lunatic with a death wish, but then guys who didn't look like criminals were actually damn useful. No policeman was going to stop the shy looking dude with a pink sweater who probably worked 9 to 5 in some office filing tax returns.

"Yeah? Then why isn't he here himself to do it?"

"He's busy... or something," Pete answered. "He said he's got an opportunity for you to capitalise on, so he gave me your address and the keys and said I was meant to pick you up..." Jimmy was almost starting to feel sorry for him. He clearly didn't want to be here and had no idea what was going on. Which also meant giving him shit wasn't going to get Jimmy anywhere. If he had issues with Gary, he was going to have to take them up in person.

"All right, let's go," he huffed. "I got a thing or two I want to say to this clown anyway."

"Oh," Pete sounded disheartened. "Are you gonna, uh... try to kill him?"

"What? _No_," Jimmy blurted. "Why, does that happen a lot?"

"I dunno, I guess so," Pete fumbled. "I was just going to say he's pretty hard to pin down. I mean, if you _were _going to kill him you'd have to do it properly."

"You've put some thought into it," Jimmy taunted as he grabbed some things and headed out of the apartment. "I'll have those keys he gave you, by the way," he added after locking the door, and Pete handed over a set of copies that looked like the ones he had to leave in the maintenance office when he moved in. That made things easier, at least. He could just rough up the super until he understood the importance of not just handing out spare keys to any lunatic with a story and fifty bucks.

Pete led the way to a shabby car that certainly wasn't stolen, or if it was had been a bum deal, because it gave a groan of protest when Jimmy got in. The engine got going on the fifth try and Pete's driving was unbearably safe. He even stopped to let a pedestrian cross the road. Jimmy almost fell asleep.

"Okay, we're here," he announced at last, rousing Jimmy from his doze. They were outside what looked like a junkyard, or a parking lot with an unusually high number of defunct cars in it. They didn't see Gary until he jumped down off the top of one and Jimmy nearly had a heart attack.

"Jimmy! Good to see you, friend," he began, but Jimmy cut him off by ripping the cigarette out of his mouth and throwing it over his shoulder.

"So what part of breaking into my apartment did you think was okay?" he challenged, and Gary was surprised for a second and then resolved back to a face of determination.

"Jimmy, pal," he soothed. "It was just a little... test of character. Don't worry, Pete's the most harmless thing in all Bullworth City. Right, Petey?"

"Don't call me that," Pete said caustically, leaning back on the bonnet of a bus and stewing to himself.

"Well if you feel like testing my character again, you're gonna end up in a whole loada shit," Jimmy threatened, but as with Earnest, Gary seemed to think it was all a joke.

"You worry too much," he decreed. "Look, to business. How well do you think you know this city?"

"What kinda question is that?" he shot. "I know the city just fine. I'm still alive, ain't I?"

"Questionable, Jimmy, but I'll let you have it," he taunted. "Humour me for a minute, and try to keep up. This City is a rat. A dirty, stinking rat that doesn't just withstand poison, it absorbs it and uses it to kill other rats with a venemous bite. This city is _vile _and rotten and it's ready for picking."

"That's what this is about?" Jimmy snorted. "You want to be the one who snaps it up?"

"_Want _to be? _Will _be," he corrected aloofly. "Come with me, Jimmy. I'm going to show you something." He set off towards one end of the parking lot burdened with purpose. Jimmy gave Pete a confused look, but only got a shrug.

"Is he always like this?" Jimmy asked.

"Pretty much," Pete answered, and trudged back in the direction of his car. Apparently he didn't need to come on whatever caper Gary was set on dragging Jimmy through. "I'll see you around, Jimmy," he said quietly. "I've got to get back to work." Doing what, Jimmy had to think, but by then Gary had gotten into another car that was undoubtedly not his and was slamming the horn like he wanted to wake the dead.

"Are you as slow as you are stupid?!" Gary screamed out the window. "Get in!" Figuring that it was easier to go along for the ride than try to avoid being run over, Jimmy got in the car, hoping for the best.

"Let me show you around," Gary announced dramatically, haring out onto the streets and taking a sharp left. "Now, you met Earnest already," he began, cruising past The Naughty Elf, his flagship strip joint and special services bar. "Perverted, geeky, more likely to pay someone to beat you up than do it himself, but he's got money for it so watch out."

"They don't scare me," Jimmy replied. "Guys like that are nothin' if you get past the muscle."

"True," Gary commended. "But they're sneaky bastards. It always pays to be careful." With a foot to the floor, they shot further through the city and started to climb the hill, heading for the Vale and Golden Row. "Of course, the Old Money could buy Earnest out and sell him back to himself ten times over if they wanted," he continued. "These are the town's old gangster families, the illegitimate yin to corrupt government's yang. Bent Lawyers, money launderers and dirty officials are more their sort of thing."

"Snobs," Jimmy declared. "Money doesn't protect you much in a fight."

"No, but it'll buy about twenty guys with machine guns to get in the way," Gary commented. "You'll have fun dealing with them if you don't go armed. And with friends."

"We'll see about that," Jimmy commented. Again they turned and swept away, over to the Italian corner and deep into New Coventry."

"This is where the Mafia sent all their poor, unsuccessful rejects," Gary narrated wistfully. "A few historic families, but it's Johnny Vincent who runs the show here. He's the one who got them organised in the first place. His girlfriend Lola is the one who'll tear them down."

"Then it can't be worth much," Jimmy pointed out. They got closer to his corner of town, where a bunch of Greasers in black jackets were fighting some punks in an alleyway. "These idiots spend more time fighting over their turf than doing any actual business," he professed at last.

"Very observant, Jimmy," Gary complimented sarcastically – or maybe that was just his usual tone. "But they're tough, so it's best not to mess with them too much yet."

"If they keep outta my way we're not gonna have any problems," Jimmy declared, but Gary's silence seemed to hint that he knew things Jimmy didn't yet.

"We'll see about that," he remarked cryptically, and took another sharp turn. "Of course, if it's discipline you want to talk about, it's Ted Thompson you need to worry about. Even Earnest stays out of his turf, and you don't go betting at a Thompson-owned bookies if you feel like keeping your money. Or your life, if your player doesn't take a dive or throw at the right time."

"Fixing bets is kid's work," Jimmy scoffed. "Don't any of these guys run real business?"

"Exactly," Gary seized viciously. "_Exactly_, Jimmy. They're all stuck in their ruts, bickering over small fries and scraping by with their corner of business. There's room at the top, and I want it."

"What makes you think you're so special?"

"Because I'm the only man in this whole city with a _mind_," he proclaimed arrogantly. "These dumb cunts won't know what's hit them."

"You think so?" Jimmy probed, wondering if he was riding along on a fast ticket to the bottom of a river. Ambitions were rarely rewarded in these parts.

"I know so," he replied. "With you, Jimmy, I... _we_ are going straight to the top. I can feel it." He seemed too excited to be sober, Jimmy thought to himself. He wondered what kind of rehab that Pete guy had been talking about.

"What makes you think I'm in?" he suggested coldly.

"Oh, you want to sit in your apartment eating takeaway out of the box for the rest of your life?" he prompted. "Or is the idea to bunny-hop your way into prison where they'll look after you for free?"

"Shut up," he snapped. "I'm just saying you've got a lot of big ideas for one junkie in a stolen car."

"You don't know what it's like," Gary rushed. "You don't know the _half _of it, Jimmy. To look around and see how ripe this place is for the picking. _I _can see it. That's all you need to know."

"Why should I trust you?" he pointed out, and justly so.

"Why shouldn't you?" Gary shot. "All you can do is win with me. How are you going to get any lower than where you are already?"

"Hey," he growled. "I get by."

"Ohh you get by, but you don't live," he retorted. "Don't you want _more, _Jimmy? Your share of this rotten pie?"

"Rotten pie ain't my idea of a good time."

"Well it is mine," he shot. "So just sit tight and do as you're fucking told."

"You talk an awful lot of shit for someone who wants my help," Jimmy pointed out caustically.

"Not help," he corrected. "You'll get paid, and well. I'm a terrific negotiator." He seemed to think he was a terrific everything, but Jimmy decided to keep his mouth shut and see where the ride took him. In time he started to recognise his own neighbourhood.

"I don't need to tell you about blue skies, I'm sure," Gary remarked. "Lotta drugs, lotta creeps, and that crusty dropout Edgar runs things for now."

"Edgar's helped me out before," Jimmy said. "I'm not backstabbing anyone who's done me a favour."

"What's this, morals?" Gary scathed. "You're in Bullworth, friend. Those scruples aren't wanted here."

"Maybe I'll go somewhere they are appreciated then," he retorted.

"Settle down," Gary huffed. "Things are gonna work out just fine, Jimmy boy. You'll see." Jimmy saw his apartment block come around the corner, but Gary didn't slow down, and by the time they passed it he realised Gary wasn't done with him yet. "One last thing," he insisted. "Not far, I promise."

They pulled up at an abandoned primary school with a bus still bricked up in the playground and Gary got out of the car. He had a gun in his hand.

"There's just one thing I'm curious about, Jimmy," he began persuasively, and Jimmy had a sense that something was a little off. "If you'd... satisfy me, on it." He was holding out the gun, handle to Jimmy's hand.

"What's that for?" he asked stiffly, and Gary was trying to sell him on a smile.

"A little target practice," he soothed. "There's something I'm intending to prove myself right about." Jimmy took the gun from him and felt the cool weight in his hand. Unpleasantly familiar.

"Now what?" he said grumpily.

"Try to shoot out the windows of that bus," Gary instructed. They were about a hundred metres away from it, but Jimmy could make out the orange reflection of the windows in a nearby streetlight. He sighed and raised his hand.

Five rhythmic shots rang out with perfect symmetry, each followed by a shatter and a clang of metal. One, two, three, four, five windows broken with effortless precision.

"Hm," Gary murmured approvingly. "Just as I thought." Jimmy dropped the gun and handed it back to him, rubbing the recoil from his hand. "What are you, ex-military or something?"

"None of your fucking business," Jimmy growled. "And I still don't shoot people."

"Of course," Gary assuaged. "I was just interested."

"Now you're done," he said solidly. "So I can go hom-" An incoherent screaming broke away Jimmy's sentence, and a series of crashes from the bus revealed an old hobo was trying to stagger out.

"You didn't tell me there was someone in-" Jimmy shouted, but when he turned to look for Gary he was nowhere to be seen. Fucking typical.

"Youdamnedfuckingkids!" the hobo snarled, lurching for Jimmy. "I'll cut your eyes out!"

"Easy, grandpa!" Jimmy backed out. "I didn't know you were in there."

"Can't a guy OD in peace?!" the hobo shrieked. "Get outta here!"

"Why should I?" Jimmy snapped, the hobo shambling closer.

"Because I'll kill you!" came the reply. That was rich.

"You could try," he said. "By the looks of you I doubt you'd suceed."

"Whaddya want?" the old man demanded, standing a way off from Jimmy and staring him out.

"Nothin' I'm just taking in the night air," Jimmy remarked.

"You got any drugs?" the hobo demanded.

"No," he bit.

"Do you wanna buy some?" he offered next.

"No!" Jimmy spat.

"Then what're you doing here?!" the man screamed.

"I dunno, what're YOU doing here?" Jimmy barked back. With a long belch the hobo slumped onto his ass.

"I'm hitting rock bottom," he grovelled. "Once I coulda been somethin'... but now." He belched again. "Now I'm all washed up."

"Yeah, well ain't life hard," Jimmy commented sardonically. "Happens every day."

"Wait a second," the hobo called out as he started to turn away. "You wanna help out an old vet?" Jimmy hesitated, and hated how he deliberated too much.

"How?" he asked reluctantly.

"If you bring me some parts I can start up my ol' business again," he said drunkenly. "Climb back up the ladder, y'nno."

"What kinda parts?" Jimmy asked suspiciously. "A new liver?"

"Haah!" the man brayed. "You've got balls, kid. I like it. Just a few pieces of lab equipment. And some cough medicine... for my... chest," he said woodenly.

"Why should I?"

"Because I'll help you out if you do," he muttered. "You don't need to go far, just into the old school. They've got rooms fulla the stuff."

"If it's so easy why don't you go?" Jimmy pointed out.

"I'm old and weak!" the man spat. "I lost my knees in Korea, my lungs in Vietnam, and everything else when I came back here and the government threw me out on my medal-wearing ass!"

"Hey, take it easy," Jimmy urged. "All right, all right, I'll get your shit." Anything to keep him from going on, Jimmy reasoned, but he knew he could've just walked away. He was still a sucker, he reminded himself as he ripped old boards off a window and climbed inside. It was dark, but he used what little light he had to find a lab stacked high with old science equipment. He filled an old crate with one of everything and then blundered around some more for the nurse's office. There were a few big bottles that were probably a few years expired, but that was the best the hobo was getting from Jimmy.

Back out in the playground the old-timer was nowhere to be found, so Jimmy had to go all the way up to the bus and rap on the side.

"Whaaaaat?!" came a roar from inside.

"Grandpa! I got your shit!" Jimmy bellowed, and some dirty arms snaked out of one of the newly bust windows.

"Much obliged, sonny," he cawed. "Oh yes, this'll do just fine. Come back later and I'll have somethin' good for you."

"Whatever," Jimmy dismissed, washing his hands of the situation. He assumed Gary had fucked off and left him to walk home, but when he was a few feet out onto the street a blaring horn took him from behind.

"How'd it go?" Gary asked, hanging out the car window and pulling up alongside Jimmy, who just carried on walking.

"None of your business," Jimmy declared. "You disappeared quick enough, didn't you?"

"I had no choice," he excused. "_He_ hates me."

"Who? That messed up old hobo?" Jimmy suggested. "You're even more of a pussy than I thought," he degraded.

"That's no ordinary man," Gary said aloofly. "You just met Crazy Walt, the best meth cook in the fucking state."

"Then what's he doing living in a goddam bus?" Jimmy shot.

"Well, that might be partly why he doesn't like me," Gary remarked vaguely. "Something about a deal gone bad and a shipment that might not've reached its... never mind," he cut off. "The point is you're just the kind of hardass he takes a shine to, which you managed for me perfectly." He seemed triumphant in this victory he had almost no hand in. He'd driven to a school bus and then fucked off at the first sign of trouble. "Very good, Jimmy. Things are going well already."

"Whatever," he grunted. "Next time you feel like dragging me on a three-hour trip around town and a fight with a hobo, you better have some money to back it up."

"Relax!" Gary hissed, throwing a wad of bills out of the car so quick Jimmy almost dropped it down a drain. "There's your fucking money, happy, princess?"

"Not until I know you're well away from me," he growled.

"Some people," Gary huffed, and then with a loud rev pulled away from Jimmy and raced down the street.

"Thank fuck for that," Jimmy murmured wearily. If he was lucky, Gary might hit a truck on the way to wherever it was he was going and die before he could hassle Jimmy any more.

Then again, things didn't usually work out the way he wanted. Chances were he'd be seeing far more of Gary Smith than he wanted or needed to.

* * *

I don't usually do this but I get lonely on the internet so if you have any thoughts on this rehash please leave a review, I don't bite (unless requested).


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